There’s an image of a Fisher Price playset circulating wildly around Facebook right now. In fact, roughly a half dozen friends and family have sent it my way as a joke. I was a career bartender before I became a writer, so the hilarity of the set isn’t lost on me.

On the cover of the box, two toddlers cozy up to a fake plastic bar to presumably be served some delicious beer from their burly-faced bartender.

I chuckled and went on with my day, as one does when they see a cute little internet joke — but apparently not everyone. Amiri King, the comedian who shared the joke, has over two million Facebook followers. The reaction to it proves a) not everyone has a sense of humor and b) people are really freaking gullible.

“So now your toy company (widely trusted among parents for many decades) is promoting drinking with this ‘CHILDRENS’ toy of a bar, complete with beer bottles?” one user asked Fisher-Price on Facebook.

“You should stop selling this toy,” declared another.

“NO!!! Not cute!! It’s exploitation of the young mind!” Relax with the exclamation points. We get it. You’re pissed.

“Stupid toys. This is what happens when morals are gone and proper common sense is missing. Political Correctness created this. My children would never have shield this.” Political correctness created this?

“This is stupid and ridiculous as shit, why they tryna even put lil baby’s [sic] as an image on here, you know these kids are going to grow up to be drunks, gets dui’s and likely die of liver failure by age 50 or so.” Yes, this is definitely a gateway playset. These toddlers are doomed.

“Personally, I think this is a terrible gift. Hard to comprehend a company making such a thing. You may not think this so funny in a few years! Why would you trivialize drinking with small children! They will be impressed with the ‘coolness’ of it. You may not think it so great when they have a problem or kill or kill someone else drinking and driving! Just sayin’…………………YOU grow up!” Stop YELLING at us. Sheesh.

First of all, if this toy actually existed, it would be sold out. Full stop. Second, screw everyone who thinks bartending isn’t a legitimate role-play “job.” Kids pretend to be everything from mutant turtles, to evil overlords, to bank robbers. At least bartenders aren’t armed — and what is the big deal?

“In the last few weeks some comical, yet fictional, Fisher-Price products have been introduced – perhaps the result of adult writers, designers and comedians that were Fisher-Price kids themselves,” Amber Pietrobono, public relations manager for Fisher-Price, told CBS News. “As a premiere childhood development company focused on helping families get the best possible start in life, we take our role in developing toys and products very seriously, but can appreciate the recent product development suggestions as obvious love of the brand.”

Newsflash: this “gift exchange” is complete nonsense plus, illegal

Us moms are a vulnerable crew when it comes to the phrase “free wine.” Say it and we perk up like our kids when they hear us opening a snack we weren’t planning to share, and it’s that exact desperation nefarious Facebook forces are preying on with this ridiculous holiday wine gift exchange. We’re going cross-eyed trying to do the math to figure out how it would even work, but bottom line, it does not.

Ladies, back away from the pyramid scheme. There are other ways to get our mom juice that don’t include mail fraud.

In case you haven’t seen the scammy bullshit post making the Facebook rounds, here it is in all its tricky glory.

Image via Facebook

TIS THE SEASON to be a total idiot, apparently. Because we may not be stellar math students, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize that one bottle of wine does not in any world equal 6 to 36 bottles of wine. Who do we think we are, Jesus Christ himself? The only surefire ways to make wine appear out of thin air is to either become a vintner or load into your minivan and haul ass to the liquor store. And even then, the shit still won’t be free. Much like the ridiculous seaweed body wraps that purport to smooth our cottage-cheese-like mom bellies, if it sounds too good to be true, it is.

But that didn’t stop us from at least trying to do the math because hello, 36 bottles of free wine. This was pretty much us for a few hours adding up the facts and figures to see how this might shake out.

Spoiler alert: it did not. And oh my God, math sucks.

So, the scam tells the hopeful user to buy one $15 bottle of wine and that somehow, by math voodoo, you could end up with 36 as long as enough of the original poster’s dumb friends play along. The entire premise is about as believable as a unicorn walking down your street (please let that happen someday), but the lure of tons of free wine is big enough that plenty of women have probably tried it. So if you were thinking about trying it, picture us saying, “No, girl. Put down your iPad and listen to reason.”

And if you don’t believe us, at least believe the BBB, and no, that’s not a funky postpartum bra size, it’s The Better Business Bureau; and when it comes to debunking questionable consumer practices, they’re your boy.

Their site’s warning about the dangers of the “Secret Sister” scams (yes, there was another incarnation before the wine version involving just “gifts” of indeterminate nature) notes that another important organization, the U.S. Postal Inspection Service, is not remotely down with this idea. “According to the U.S. Postal Inspection Service’s gambling and pyramid scheme laws, gift chains like this are illegal and participants could be subject to penalties for mail fraud.”

Fraud! Happy friggin’ holidays from the inside of a jail cell. How’s that free wine taste now, girls? Bitter, right? Like your tears when you realize there’s no way your tiny wine purchase will yield a holiday miracle of several cases of it.

Oh, and P.S.: shipping wine is an absolute shitshow. I used to work for a distributor and we had special packaging for it and bottles still broke during transit on occasion, but good luck, novice wine shipper. I’m sure nothing will go wrong. Not to mention, if this involves mostly strangers on Facebook, you have no way of knowing if someone is underage when you send their magical free wine. Mailing alcohol to a minor sounds like a lovely way to also end up in jail, this time, as an aspiring Regina George’s mom.

In the end, we’ll have to get wine the old-fashioned way. Paying for it with a few screaming kids tagging along while we slowly lose our minds. Happy Holidays!

As I hold the newest addition to my family, I am bursting with love and contentment. I know I can do at least one thing right. I can make some pretty amazing children! Despite the challenges, I feel that I have been rewarded.

Cancer has given me the greatest miracle there is, a perfect, healthy, handsome baby boy. I won’t make it seem like it has been easy since having my fifth child. It has been trying, but every second has been worth it. I may lose my cool the same as the next mother, but it doesn’t mean I love my kids any less. It just means I’m human — a not-so-perfect human.

I have had two years to accept this mutilated body. I’m not saying I am bursting with joy about my new image, but it surely wins against the alternative of dying. There are people who wonder what it looks like to have a mastectomy, and there are people who think it’s disgusting and never want to see it. I remember having a discussion with someone who said something along the lines of “That’s gross! I would never want to see it.” I thought to myself, Well, that’s OK. They can’t help the way they feel.

Melanie Courage

Then I thought about it for a while and said, “I am deeply offended. This is my body we are talking about, and if you think my mastectomy is ‘gross,’ then you are saying I am gross, and that hurts my feelings deeply!”

I think that in that moment of defending myself, I realized I have nothing to be ashamed of. I had cancer, my breast tried to kill me, and now my other breast is feeding and aiding in the life of another human being.

I have a love-hate relationship with my breasts. I hate that they tried to kill me, but I love that I am able to feed my baby. My children don’t care that I only have one breast. They don’t care about the way I look, and they don’t care that my chest has scars. What they do care about is the fact that I am alive, that I am able to provide food for them, and that they are deeply loved by so many.

I have used both formula and breast to feed my children, and there is something good to be said about both. I feel a very strong connection with my newest little one while breastfeeding. I may have felt unwanted before, but now I am needed more than ever, and that brings me great comfort.

There are people who are unaware that someone who had breast cancer and a single mastectomy is able to breastfeed. Life is a miraculous thing, and we are capable of so much as humans if we put our minds to it. I am not an outcast because I had cancer. I am still a fully functional human with many possibilities ahead, and I plan to push myself each and every day.

So when you see someone who looks different, think twice before you say anything out loud. Think about the struggles that person may have faced and is probably still facing. Try thinking about the positive outcomes instead of focusing on the negative ones.

We all have feelings — some more sensitive than others. We should just share the love.

Though I don’t actually celebrate Christmas, I always wish people a Merry Christmas when they wish me one. It seems only polite, and I do hope they enjoy the holiday. Though it’s technically not my holiday, I’m not the least bit bothered or offended by someone saying “Merry Christmas” to me. I know the intention is kind and the sentiment is lovely.

What I do find tiresome is the idea that saying, “Happy Holidays,” instead is somehow offensive, and that its use represents a “war on Christmas” rather than the reality that we live in a diverse society where people celebrate different things. That seems ridiculously narrow-minded to me.

It doesn’t help that our president-elect, who has clearly stated that he wants to be a leader for all Americans, has repeatedly blasted the use of “Happy Holidays” and pledged that “Merry Christmas” will be heard in every store once he’s president.

Yes, he said that. More than once.

Last year on the campaign trail, he said, “I’m a good Christian, remember that. And I told you about Christmas, and I guarantee, if I become president, we’re gonna be saying ‘Merry Christmas’ at every store […] every store, every store. The ‘Happy Holiday’ you can leave that over in the corner.”

Again, in this video, he said, “You don’t see ‘Merry Christmas’ anymore, right? Because it’s not politically correct. Guess what, folks, when I win, if I win, when I win, whatever — I will tell you, we’re gonna all be saying ‘Merry Christmas’ again.”

And lest we think he’s not really being serious, in this this audio interview, after claiming that Christians are having their power taken away, Mr. Trump says, “One of the things I always say, and I say it light-heartedly, but I mean it — it’s actually not supposed to be so light-hearted […] is we are going to start saying ‘Merry Christmas’ again. Because you go into these stores, and you don’t see anything having to do with Christmas. And it’s disgraceful, frankly, as far as I’m concerned.”

First of all, am I the only one who still sees Christmas trees and Christmas wreaths and Christmas cookies and hears Christmas carols everywhere? No one is stopping anyone from wishing one another a “Merry Christmas,” simply because some businesses choose to put up signs that say “Happy Holidays” and schools call their vacations “Winter Break” instead of “Christmas Break.” Christmas is not in danger of disappearing. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it (if they are willing to be honest).

But more to the point, please imagine for a moment that Bernie Sanders — who is Jewish — had won the presidency. Imagine that all along the campaign trail he had talked about how he really loves Hanukkah, and how it’s a shame that people say “Happy Holidays” and that he really wants to hear “Happy Hanukkah” instead. Then imagine he repeatedly said that, if he becomes president, all stores are going to be saying, “Happy Hanukkah.” Every store…every store…every store.

Doesn’t that strike you as a little (or a lot) odd and inappropriate? Why is it less odd and inappropriate when it comes from a Christian?

Sure, Christmas is a federal holiday, and our country’s religious majority is Christian. But about one-third of Americans are not. And depending on the year, there can be official religious holidays that fall between Thanksgiving and the New Year for Bahá’ís, Buddhists, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Pagans, and Zoroastrians, and I’d be willing to bet more that I’ve never heard of.

That’s why people say “Happy Holidays.” I guarantee it’s not part of some conspiracy to destroy Christianity or Christmas. It’s a recognition that we live in a diverse nation and a nice way to include everyone’s faith traditions in our holiday greetings.

Let me be clear, because I don’t want people to misunderstand what I’m saying here, the problem is not with anyone saying, “Merry Christmas.” As I said, even as someone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas, I’m not bothered by that in the least. The problem is with demanding that people say “Merry Christmas,” and getting offended when people offer the more inclusive “Happy Holidays.” Doesn’t that complaint seem a little…umm…precious snowflakey?

I can’t for the life of me understand why anyone would be irked by “Happy Holidays” if it is offered in goodwill. Why would you complain about an all-inclusive phrase that covers everyone’s traditions? Why insist that the holiday you celebrate be specifically acknowledged?

The America I know and love embraces all of its citizens and acknowledges differing belief systems. Please tell me we aren’t going to start backing away from that deeply held value simply because our elected leader has a beef with an inclusive greeting.

May your holiday season be filled with joy and peace, everyone, whatever and however you celebrate.

As I stood in the blazing August sun, I shielded my eyes and squinted toward the man gesturing in the grandstands before me. I had been marching with fellow members of our high school color guard all morning, and the man in the stands was our coach, Vince.

We were standing in formation in the hot summer sun as we followed Vince’s direction while he adjusted our positions on the field. He taught us flag routines and dance numbers, and he perfected our marching techniques. We spent hours running routines and making sure our performance was tight and polished.

And we did this for 8 hours a day, five days a week during our band camp as we prepared for the upcoming season of supporting our football team.

When the school year started, we’d practice late into the evening several days a week. Weekends found us traveling with our high school football team to perform the pregame show for the visiting team or providing music and entertainment for our home audience. Often we’d arrive home late at night and still have to go to school in the early morning hours. Sometimes my entire weekend was filled with participating in football games, band competitions, or local parades.

It was a lot to manage, and I loved every minute of my time with my color guard. But even though I excelled in my beloved activity, I always felt that being on the color guard wasn’t as accepted as football or basketball or other “ball” sports. Comments about not being able to cut it on the field and being doomed to the sidelines always made me cringe. Kids would make mean jokes about band geeks and make fun of our uniforms (though, come to think of it, my costume did have orange sequins on it).

I didn’t let their comments deter me. I continued to do what I loved in high school, and now that I have kids, I fully support their decisions to spend time in activities that don’t come with letterman jackets or trophies. And just because they aren’t running soccer drills or swinging bats in batting cages five days a week, it doesn’t mean they aren’t just as dedicated or focused on their skills.

My kids are actively involved in theater productions, and their schedule is jam-packed when they are preparing for a show. Theater and drama kids are the unsung heroes of the school activity world, truly. Not only do they have to memorize lines for shows that often run an hour or longer, they also have to learn complicated dance routines that must be perfected. They are learning about the technical side of theater when they are running the light- and sound-boards in the back of the theater. They are learning how to be a leader when they’ve been selected as a student director.

Theater kids spend long hours in vocal coaching, costume design, and set building. And when the curtain goes up on their show, they’ve often spent months making sure every note is perfect.

These kids deserve Tony awards, for sure.

When my children were small, we enrolled them in Scouting, because my family has a long tradition of Scout participation. In the early years, the children in Scouts spend time learning about their communities by visiting local firehouses and police stations, and they learn valuable skills in communication and volunteering. They learn to see the Earth as a place to be protected and often do a great deal of community service.

Now that my son is 13, he’s working toward his Eagle Scout rank. In order to reach that distinction, he must spend long hours hiking, learning life-saving survival skills, and proving he understands the values of his community. A boy hoping to earn the Eagle Scout rank must complete a project entirely on his own that betters his community. And that takes time, effort, and a whole lot of determination on the part of the Scout. These boys and girls are often overlooked for accolades simply because their uniform doesn’t have a number on the back.

Whether it’s a kid who excels at playing the violin or a kid who spends hours in a dance studio preparing for a dance competition, there’s a life beyond traditional sports for many kids. Every child has a talent that should be celebrated and encouraged. And if it means helping a kid perfect their speech for the student government election or driving them to a gaming completion, we should be proud of them for chasing dreams that don’t include referees and a scoreboard.

So much emphasis is placed on excelling on the field that parents sometimes forget that the arts — and other activities outside of sports — are just as important (if not more so) for this generation of kids growing up with social media and 24/7 internet access.

Recently, I attended a Powder Puff football game where my son was one of the cheerleaders. As my husband and I took in the bright lights, the sights of the kids walking around the stadium just as we had 20 years ago, and the smells from the snack stand, I smiled as I reminisced about my days on the field as a marching band member. And when I heard the high school band start its cadence and watched them march onto the field, I resisted the urge to grab a flag and join them.

I’d never trade those memories, and I hope my kids feel the same way when they get to revisit their high school days.

Fritz could be my kid! I was thrilled to have this realization during one of my many, many viewings of The Nutcracker. I love The Nutcracker — the music, the dancing, the costumes. And I am lucky enough to have seen it performed professionally several times.

My dad took me to see it as a kid and even in college. I made my husband take me when I was pregnant with our first child, and I forced my sons to go with me once they were old enough. This is actually not as hard a sell for boys as you might imagine. After all, there are sword fights, the Mouse King, and all sorts of acrobatic dancing.

When most people think of The Nutcracker, they picture graceful ballerinas and a Sugar Plum Fairy, but the story is actually not so sweet. If you recall, the titular Nutcracker is the gift given to young Clara by her beloved godfather on Christmas Eve. Her brother, Fritz, gets jealous, grabs the Nutcracker from Clara, and breaks it. That’s totally something my kids would do.

Since becoming a parent, a big part of my holiday stress is due to the expectations involved in celebrating Christmas, including my children’s outrageous wish lists, which are filled with live animals (hedgehogs and hamsters), loud musical instruments (a drum set and ukulele), and every other page of the Lego catalog.

Then there’s the jockeying of relatives, all of them intent on getting equal time with my children. And there are the endless invitations and obligations, all of which seem to cost money and time I don’t have.

But mostly my stress is caused by this ridiculous notion that kids are supposed to be good and patient and grateful at all times in the midst of this melee, all while jacked up on sugar and up way past their bedtimes. The naughty/nice list is too much damn pressure on an energetic little kid with no concept of time or delayed gratification. Anyone who playfully warns that “Santa’s watching!” while wagging a finger at a kid who is having a hissy fit should be choked with a string of twinkle lights.

People who picture the holidays filled with cherubs in footy pajamas sweetly clutching teddy bears while visions of sugar plums dance in their heads need to come to my house in December. It’s all broken ornaments, tantrums, and time-outs around here.

I am seriously considering having “Kids are why we can’t have nice things” stitched on a throw pillow.

But The Nutcracker reminds me that this is normal. Kids are sometimes (OK, often) cranky and tired during the holidays. Sometimes they are unhappy with their gifts. No matter how much you coach them to force a smile and thank Aunt Betty for the hand-knitted wool socks, kids don’t have good poker faces. They might frown and pout when they get a boring gift. And let’s be honest: Plenty of adults do too. Some of us just have better poker faces.

At Christmastime, I try to keep my expectations low and my décor replaceable. I may never have a nutcracker to pass down to my grandchildren as a family heirloom (mostly because my own kids will have destroyed it first), but nutcrackers make bad gifts for kids anyway. You’re better off picking something out of the Lego catalog. May I recommend page 32?

]]>http://www.scarymommy.com/visions-sugar-plums-help-get-real-holidays/feed/0I Spoiled My First Kid, But I’m Not Going To Do It A Second Time.http://www.scarymommy.com/i-spoiled-my-first-kid-but-im-not-going-to-do-it-second-time/
http://www.scarymommy.com/i-spoiled-my-first-kid-but-im-not-going-to-do-it-second-time/#respondFri, 09 Dec 2016 02:00:31 +0000http://www.scarymommy.com/?p=189586

It’s 6 p.m., and my house is covered end to end in toys. Most of the havoc was wreaked by my 4-year-old, who decided it was the perfect day to spill out all his superhero figures, take out his magic set, play “52 pick-up” with a deck of cards, and unload all the art supplies onto the kitchen floor.

And even though he’s been bouncing around like a madman for 45 minutes, at the very moment I ask him to please start cleaning up, he decides he’s exhausted and collapses in a heap on the floor, whining, “Mommy, I’ve never been this tired in my whole entire wife!”

He means “life,” of course. And he’s almost cute enough for me to totally excuse him and just pick up his toys myself. But I stop myself from doing that, because I’ve been under that spell before.

I totally spoiled his older brother, now 9. Luckily, he’s grown up relatively unscathed and (most of the time) the opposite of a spoiled brat. But that’s partly because I’ve had to put my foot down and whip him into shape a little these past few years.

There is a five-year age gap between my kids, so I had the luxury of giving my everything to my first son. It wasn’t that I waited on him hand and foot. I always told him to clean up his toys, take responsibility for his stuff, and generally be as disciplined and obedient as a young child could be expected to be. But at the same time, I let him get away with way too much junk.

For instance, if we’d been in the situation my younger son and I were in this afternoon, I might have begged and pleaded with him to pick up his toys, but when he resisted (he was always a much more strong-willed kid than my second child), I would have come up with some half-assed compromise like, “OK, just pick up three toys, and I’ll do the rest.”

Honestly, a lot of it had to do with the fact that putting away toys and doing other chores is much faster and more efficient when done by a grown-up instead of a slow-as-molasses 5-year-old.

I made up a ton of excuses for my son, too. “Maybe he’s too young for that level of responsibility,” I’d say to myself. Other times I couldn’t listen to his cries and protests, because I was so dang tired and cranky myself, and I just wanted silence and a clean house.

I also believed (incorrectly, I know) that eventually my son would just assume the responsibility on his own, without all my nagging, and actually want a clean and organized house as much as I did.

It was a rude awakening for both of us, and we had to wade through a lot of protests, meltdowns, and unraveling of bad habits. We’re past that stage now, thankfully.

I blame myself more than anyone else for letting him get away with murder for his first few years. So I decided early on that I wasn’t going down that crooked path with my younger son.

As soon as my younger son was able to understand simple directions, I made it clear that I expected him to walk his sticky, yogurt-laden napkin to the trash bin, open up the lid, and put the damn thing inside. And while I helped him clean up his toys to some extent when he was very little, he had to do most of the cleaning himself. “I’m tired” was definitely not a legit excuse.

I’ve had to wade through some protests. For instance, I’ve plugged my ears as he sits in a heap, crying his eyes out while trying to make some complicated case about why he absolutely can’t pick his train tracks off the carpet. But I have not backed down.

When you have more than one kid, you simply don’t have time to clean up all their shit day in and day out. Second kids — and especially third and fourth kids — have absolutely no choice but to pitch in.

But even if you have only one child and all the time in the world to tend to their needs, I urge you not to fall into the trap of leniency when it comes to chores.

Kids absolutely need flexibility sometimes. They should only do chores that are developmentally appropriate for them. And what might feel like a necessary chore to one family may not feel important at all to another. (I sure as hell will not allow LEGOs to cover my living room floor for more than 30 minutes, but I also don’t give a crap if my sink is piled high with dirty dishes.)

But however you do it, don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify it or take the easy way out. I know it often feels easier to just let them get away with stuff, but think good and hard about the kind of men and women you want your kids to be when they grow up.

I know I want my sons to be good men and partners, and that means they need to know their way around a kitchen, take out the trash without being asked, and make sure they don’t leave their dirty socks all over the bathroom floor.

If you weren’t already in the know, Supergirl is back on TV and is fighting off baddies and saving lives — both in the DC Universe and in real life — and it’s about damn time.

Due to some lackluster ratings during its debut season, CBS passed off the cult favorite Supergirl to the CW, and at long last it looks like the DC heroine has not only found a home but also a fresh generation of emotionally invested fans, thanks in no small part to the recent introduction of a gay story arc.

Not that we didn’t love Kara already — get it, girl! — but when we get into those details that make characters interesting and relatable in the way that draws people in on a personal level ::sprinkles some gay agenda glitter everywhere:: writers are finally starting to understand just how much representation matters. And we mean representation in a real way, not just the token funny flaming sidekick inserted to keep the laugh track rolling.

In the show, Kara’s adopted human sister Alex is just now coming to the self-realization part in her journey when she admits to herself, and then confesses to others, that she’s gay. Some may find it odd that Alex is as old as she is and is just now facing these feelings, but the writers dealt with that reasonably well. And while Alex may not be technically a metahuman, super hero, or the titular character of the show, she’s the real MVP right now for many.

According to Twitter user ‏@sapphicgeek, whose name is Mary and whose bio says that she works at a comic book store in Indiana and is “super duper gay,” she recently had an interaction with a customer and fan of the show that left her in tears.

“So, I want to tell you all what happened in the store today. It’s probably the single greatest moment I have ever experienced working here,” she writes.

In a series of tweets, Mary goes on to tell the rest of the story: “After the usual Saturday rush, a teenage girl comes in. She looks absolutely terrified and when I greet her, she jumped. She starts going up and down the new release wall and the poor thing looks completely overwhelmed. So, I make my way over to her and ask if I can help her find anything. She quietly admits that she was looking for Supergirl. We’re walking to the Super area when I ask if she watches the show. She smiles a bit and nods. Says Alex is her favorite. I mention that I’m a huge #Sanvers shipper and the poor thing just breaks down in tears. I’m trying to figure out what the hell I did to upset her. She’s crying and I’m freaking out. After a minute or so, everything clicks. I’m staring down a crying baby gay. One who was having some big issues. I tell her that it was hard for me when I wanted to come out too. She finally stops crying and asks me if it gets easier. She tells me that she’s just wanted to kill herself for so long and that she had tried but just made herself sick.”

Excuse me while I pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

Why do we still have our precious babies thinking that suicide is a better option than coming out? Or if they’ve come out already, why is their world still so cold and dark and isolated and scary — in 2016 — that death seems like a better option than living gay?

Mary goes on to relay the teenager’s hopeful change of heart: “But as Alex’s arc continued, she said she realized that she started to see that she could be happy, that she could be loved. She didn’t want to die anymore. For the first time, she didn’t want to die because she got to see Alex be amazing and be queer.”

Representation matters, ya’ll. It matters. So many people in this world don’t have support systems in their family. They don’t have friends at school, people in their community, or role models to turn to. Finding someone to relate to on TV or in the movies may be the only example they ever have of someone living their truth and showing them that they can have a better life, that better things are out there for them.

Back to Twitter, where Mary continued: “She said she came to the store hoping to find something to get her through the hiatus, so she wouldn’t fall back in depression. She had no idea gay comic characters were a thing, but wanted to try. I tell her about Batwoman, Midnighter, and Renee Montoya. She had enough cash for one and was torn on which to get. She decides on Batwoman and asks if I can hold the rest for a while. I was having an internal crisis at that time, because this kid was me years ago. I was barely holding off my own tears. I ended up buying the other 3 for her and I make her promise me that in 10 years she’ll help another queer kid.”

“So, I’m out 60 bucks and I cried in the bathroom for an hour but it was damn worth it. So, @TheCWSupergirl @SupergirlStaff @chy_leigh and @florianalima the work you do means so much to us. Thank you. So, so, much.”

While you take a minute to wipe the mascara off your face (go ahead, we’ll wait), I will say that the responses to this story have been amazing to read. At first, there were tons of “favorites” and retweets, and then the magic happened:

@sapphicgeek @TheCWSupergirl @SupergirlStaff @chy_leigh @florianalima I will literally PayPal you the sixty bucks right now

And they kept going, until Mary told everyone that she’d prefer they donate to an LGBT charity instead. “Thank you to everyone for your kind words and offers of support. I only did what I wish someone would have done for me at that age.”

Mary (and fictional Alex) are proof that not all heroes wear capes, and these ladies illustrate exactly how we can touch people’s lives in a real way. The ripples created by the show and by Mary’s good deed will no doubt have a lasting impact on many lives.

Given the high — so fucking high — rates of suicide among LGBT youth, it is vitally important that we stop being dismissive of the reasons why people fight so hard for representation in the media and equality in our laws. It matters. It’s important. And for far too many people like this girl, it can sometimes be a matter of life and death.